Framed

My mind drifts as I reach for the next frame that needs to be cleaned. This one was an old brood frame and has hard black comb. Each of the 4,500 individual cells on each side of this Langstroth brood frame is a polished dark brown or near black colour. In the hive it would have been polished to a high shine by young worker bees who had prepared it for their queen’s inspection before she laid one egg in each cell.  It’s good practice to swap out some of the old brood frames with spanking clean frames with fresh foundation every year to prevent disease which is why the one in my hand is one of a few only left over from the spring clean  among the pile of orange/yellow-comb super frames I have to clean.

What led me to beekeeping? I use my hive tool to break up the dry, brittle dark comb and put it in a bucket. It wasn’t just one thing. Does it go back to childhood collecting of bumble bees from the fragrant flowering current hedge at the top of the park? Bees we carefully put in jam jars with holes in the lid, releasing them an hour later. Did it start when we visited my uncle and my mother warned me not to go through the hedge to look at my uncle’s beehives in case I got stung? Of course, being told what not to do was like an invitation, so as soon as my mother wasn’t looking, I went as near as I dared to the old wooden beehives. It was one of those lovely sunny summer days and it seemed that bees were everywhere, young bees were orientating in circles and foragers were shooting in and out of the entrances.

I dig the chiseled-edge of my hive tool along every side of the frame to remove the rest of the wax, and scrape at the propolis which is a rich, sticky, stubborn resin. Because I use wireless foundation, I also remove the thin steel wire that is woven through the frame, I will insert new wire after the frames have been sterilised. I scrape out the long notches of the top and bottom bars.  My mouth twists in an involuntary grimace as I remove wax moth eggs or are they spider eggs? Ugh. Satisfied that I’ve done as much as I can, I  put this scraped-down frame on the stack ready for the next stage of the cleaning process and reach for another dirty frame.

Was it the hunt for the perfect gift for my father that lead me to beekeeping? Who gave whom the perfect gift I wonder as I reach for the next dirty frame.

The visit to my brother’s house a few years ago definitely was a vital link in the chain of events.  A beekeeper had stored supers in his spacious shed. Like a tourist attraction, I was brought to see this curiosity. There they were, at least 100 well used, cleaned and torched wooden boxes in neatly stacked towers along one wall of the shed. At the time I didn’t know what a super was. (What is a super). They were to be there overwinter, but the beekeeper was getting on in years and one winter turned to two and then three and there they stayed, until my brother moved.

 I continued scraping off the wax from the frame of broken comb that had come from a super. It’s a lovely pale yellow, this wax will go into the ‘clean’ wax bucket for melting down. I will make beeswax candles from this wax.

“Can you ask that beekeeper if I can find out about bee keeping from him before you move?” I had said. The response came two weeks later. “No!” (not yet) the beekeeper had said but he had given my brother a book for me and some beekeeping association magazines to whet my appetite. He also advised that I do a beginner beekeeping course, and it just so happened that there was one starting locally the very next month. I immediately signed up.

The rhythmical work scraping off the residual wax and propolis always calms me as does many of the myriad of other beekeeping jobs. It’s also very satisfying to see the transformation from dirty to clean, sanitised, reusable frames. A job well done and a must for us fugal beekeeper’s as I have saved myself a few bob and the need to buy new frames.

Sanitizing the cleaned-down frames is another day’s work.

 I had started reading the Joys of Beekeeping and couldn’t put it down until I was finished. What a wonderful read! It caught me hook, line and sinker with its beautiful writing and descriptions of halcyon days among the beehives. Inner peace drips from the pages alongside the more practical elements of beekeeping. I always recommend this book to anyone who asks me how to start. It’s an old book but it’s a gem. The Joys of Beekeeping by Richard Taylor. More about Richard Taylor.  Some days I wonder did the book lure me under false presences as not all days are halcyon ones such as my blog post called Batten down the hatches . And, beekeeping has changed since the book was written pre-varroa and colony collapse disorder as touched on in my post called Destructor.

A few months later I finally met my brother’s friend, that wise old beekeeper, and we talked bees for ages as if we had known each other for years.  He is one of a wonderful network of beekeepers that have both welcomed me and helped me on my journey.